Serendipity at the Library
“Madam, this is Park Maru.”
“Honey, I'm sorry I should've called first. I've been busy since arriving in Seoul.”
“Well, that happens.”
“Are you mad?”
“Why would I be?”
“You're suddenly using formal speech again. It feels weird.”
“Oh. Just being careful in case someone's around.”
“No one's here, so don't worry. Anyway, you're not mad, right?”
“What would I have to be mad about? Those thugs are taken care of clean and neat—no more worries. That's why I called. Tell Mi-hyang the same.”
“How?”
“No need to dig into details. Just know it's resolved. And no one gave you grief for staying out two nights?”
“He's too busy for nagging. And he doesn't care anyway.”
“Good to hear no issues. I'll call again later.”
“Your matter—he'll reach out soon.”
“Not something to sweat. Planning to study for a bit.”
“When are you coming to Seoul?”
“When I can.”
“I miss you.”
“Hang in there, Madam.”
“Phooey. Guess you don't miss me.”
“Anyway, forget that mess completely.”
“Yeah, got it. Thanks. Love you~”
[The above conversation]
A few days after the thug issue wrapped up, as he was heading out after breakfast, his phone rang. He'd meant to call her but hesitated, not wanting to seem pushy or catch her at a bad time amid her busy schedule. Glad for the call, he picked up, relayed the news about the thugs, and hung up.
“You come here often.”
“Yeah, looks that way.”
Thanks to his frequent library visits lately, the librarian girl—face familiar now, or maybe from all his questions while hunting materials—smiled softly as she spoke. Fair enough; a healthy-looking guy spending every weekday daytime here would raise eyebrows. Leaving her bright face behind, he buried himself in the stacks again.
“Not heading out for lunch?”
“Huh? Already?”
“It's lunchtime.”
“Oh, right. Gotta eat to live and work.”
Turning at the voice behind him, he saw the librarian watching. Clock read 1 p.m. He'd lost track of time, deep in the docs. He gathered the papers from his desk, piled them neatly, and left the reading room. Elevator doors opened; she stepped in too.
“Where you off to, sir?”
“Lunch for me too.”
“Isn't break over?”
“I'm second shift today. Ours is 1 to 2.”
“Ah, staggered lunches.”
“Yeah. So where do you usually eat, sir?”
“Not 'sir.' Just Park Maru.”
“I'm Seo Ara.”
“Whoa, pretty name.”
“Thanks. So, where for lunch?”
“Oh, sorry. No favorite spot. Don't know the good places, so cafeteria mostly.”
“Wanna grab dumplings?”
“Dumplings?”
“Yeah, famous spot nearby. Short bus ride.”
“Sure, let's do that.”
She mentioned a bus, but he fetched his car from the lot, let her in the passenger seat, and drove where she directed. Post-lunch rush, not too crowded, but TV fame meant a short wait—power of the screen. Seated at last, they ordered three kinds she raved about and dug in.
“So what do you do, Mr. Park?”
“Unemployed, as you see.”
“Unemployed?”
“Yeah. What else spends weekdays in the library?”
“Grad student?”
“Nah.”
“Then why all the politics books and copies? Thought it was thesis prep.”
“Oh, worked politics till recently.”
“Not anymore?”
“Fired.”
“Really? Politicians get canned too?”
“Incumbents and candidates? Nah. But staff? Routine.”
“Aide?”
“Not quite—congressional secretary.”
“Ah, got it. Plans ahead?”
“Job hunt. Studying meantime.”
“Library regular then?”
“Where else for the jobless?”
“Cool. See you around.”
“What, wanna see this mug often?”
“Pfft!”
Chit-chat flowed; plates emptied as her break ended. Rising to pay, she beat him to the register.
“Hey, why?”
“My treat today. You get me something amazing next.”
“Next is next, but still awkward.”
“Mondays—what do you do?”
“Jobless got no plans. Headache, actually. Mom doesn't know I'm fired—can't mope home.”
“Hike with me Monday?”
“Hike? I'm lazy, hate mountains.”
“Phooey. Hiking clears a week's stress.”
“Still, takes effort.”
“Anyway, hike with me Monday. Not backing out?”
“Okay. Which mountain?”
“Geumjeongsan. Meet at Beomeosa station entrance?”
“Sure. If I tire, carry me up—you game?”
“Phooey, guys whining.”
Driving back, they locked in Monday's hike. He disliked walking but had nothing better—no friends free midweek. Nice company, but his poor stamina? Geumjeongsan might embarrass. Anyway, at the library, she hopped out, waved cutely, trotted to work. He parked, returned to reading room, dove back into notes and copies, time flying.
The message from the librarian, Seo Ara. He replied, then sank back into sorting. Library closing announcement snapped him out; he shelved books, exited with arms full of copied A4s.
Sudden interest from this girl. Early-20s boldness? But the pushiness felt a tad burdensome.
“What's up this early?”
“Got time today? Meet me.”
“Why?”
“Busy?”
“Jobless busy? Heading to library though.”
“I'll pay part-time rate. Swing by office first.”
“What's the gig?”
“See when you get here.”
En route to library, he U-turned to friend's Beomil-dong company. Called at entrance; park and come up. In friend's office, led to sofa—guest already there.
“Introduce. This is our director. Director, this guy's Park Maru, Hwang Seong-tae's ex-secretary.”
“Welcome. Sung Dong-il, director.”
“Nice to meet. Park Maru.”
“Heard lots about you from Mr. Park.”
“Aigoo, ex-secretary, unemployed now. What's up?”
“Mr. Park said you're promo/planning pro. Want advice.”
“Pro's stretch. Handled campaign promo for our assemblyman.”
Quick bows; query revealed consulting on his election promo expertise. Local SME made great products but flopped on marketing, wasting dev efforts. Tried hiring, but no talent wanted small-town bury. Outsourced—meh results. Desperate, tapped him via friend.
At friend's behest, he heard product rundown, toured dev room, inspected hands-on. Solid design; as consumer, he'd buy. But zero general goods promo experience. Friend's rep on line. Declined outright, sought compromise. Back in office, faced director.
“Vibe?”
“Yeah. Great product. Smart promo could explode.”
“Take it?”
“Director, I'm green here. But got ideas. Tumbler targets youth—online/offline push.”
“How?”
“Offline: Pitch Busan unis—admin/student councils—for job postings on boards. Not filler; high hourly over standard to hook interest. Strict interviews; losers get tumbler as 'transpo fee.' Half'll crave more. Selected kids staff streets near campuses/youth spots, hand out models, sell/promo. Viral via students. Then power bloggers for online blitz.”
“Cost?”
“Minimum wage 5,580 won/hr—often ignored. Set 10k; kids flock. 20 kids, 4hrs/day: 800k/day, half-month 12mil-ish. Bloggers need fees too. Total ad spend 15-20mil.”
“Doable?”
“If no buzz in two weeks, proves no youth appeal. But design/trends? Totally viable.”
“Thanks.”
“Just talk. Crucial: Train/manage promo kids rigorously. Slips kill it.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
He rose; director too. Friend escorted to door.
“Maru, coffee first.”
“Work time—no coffee. Grind.”
“Director okayed. C'mon.”
To first-floor cafe.
“Sellable, your take?”
“Yeah, plenty.”
“How?”
“Kids love flash. Killer design—brag-worthy. Slap eco buzzwords; they'll eat it.”
“Eco?”
“Environmental protection. Flashy coffee/soda toting wastes resources, plastics eternal trash. Twist into ad copy—hits hard.”
“Copy how?”
“Your staff. Contest, prizes.”
Quick chat; scored three tumblers, out.